


A Difficult Decision

by letterfromtrenwith



Category: Poldark (TV 2015)
Genre: AU, Future Fic, Gen, OCs galore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-04 00:03:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17887694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letterfromtrenwith/pseuds/letterfromtrenwith
Summary: 1820George has an important decision to make about his daughter's future.





	A Difficult Decision

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in the same universe as "From Her Ashes Risen", but you don't really need to have read that to understand this.

_1820_

"So, Father, are you going to let Ursula marry Lord Arthur?"

"Valentine! What on earth makes you say that?" George raised his eyebrows at his eldest son, who was looking positively delighted with himself, as he usually did when he made trouble. It was something one would hope he would have grown out of at twenty-six years old, but apparantly not.

"Oh, come Father! Don't pretend you don't know what I mean."

"Valentine, leave your poor Papa alone." Selena chided, giving her husband an affectionately chiding look over the table.

"I cannot imagine you would be speculating so about Ursula were she here." Elizabeth frowned at Valentine over her wine glass.

"No, because she would have kicked him in the shin!" Flora declared, with relish, and not the slightest bit inaccurately.

"And he would have deserved it, I say." Amadora glanced aside at her brother-in-law, who still looked not the least bit contrite. She tutted and returned to her roast lamb.

"We are all wondering the same thing, I'll wager." Valentine retorted. "And I'd wager even more that his Lordship will be paying Father a visit before the girls return from Bath."

"Well, if he does that's my business. Now, let's turn to more appropriate topics." Selena took this opportunity to jump in with an observation about the quality of the mint sauce, which led to a discussion of Cook's ever-growing herb garden. George was immensely grateful to his daughter-in-law who, with her usual sensitivity, had known she was not just diverting from a topic discomforting to him. Flora had become visibly upset by the turn of the conversation - although it was not her sister's potential engagement which bothered her, but the mention of the trip to Bath. Ursula and Susannah had been invited to accompany their Aunt Morwenna to the city, and Flora had sulked for near a fortnight after being told she could not go, an unfairness which in her mind was exacerbated by her cousin Josephine - only a year older - being taken. Reassurances that Josephine was only going because Morwenna was her mother, and that she would have to be at her lessons instead of going about town with the others, had made little difference.

"George?"

"Father?" He looked back up from his now empty plate - he did not recall finishing his meal - to find everyone else looking at him expectantly. As he struggled to respond, he saw Elizabeth's brows draw together in concern.  
   
"Forgive me, I was preoccupied."

"Worried about Ursula, no - ow!" In her elder sister's absence, Flora had evidently decided to take shin-kicking duties upon herself.

  
~

  
Sadly - or perhaps irritatingly - Valentine had been very close to the truth just before Flora had interrupted him. George had been trying to mentally put off the subject for some time now, ever since it had become clear that his eldest daughter had a particular liking for Lord Arthur. From quite early on in their acquaintance, it had been obvious that they got along well together, Ursula's sharp wit and unconventional interests perturbing him not one bit. He was every inch her match in intelligence - a claim few could make.

It had suited George to imagine that nothing more than friendship existed between them, that he was merely an extension of her much-admired eldest brother or akin to her dear cousin John Conan, with whom she had spent much time as a child. However, even George's most determined nature could not deny that which was right in front of him for long. He'd kept silent through all of Elizabeth's musings on the subject, all of her speculation with Morwenna, all of Ursula's teasing by her sisters - as if by not participating he could pretend it was not happening.

With a cross noise, he clapped the ledger he had been working on shut, unable to concentrate. He was getting too old to be spending hours peering at the little columns of figures, as much as it pained him to admit it. The spectacles he had reluctantly allowed Dwight Enys to prescribe him nigh on fifteen years ago went some way to staving off the rigours of age on his eyesight, but they could not work miracles. As much as he did not like to contemplate his seemingly ever more rapidly advancing years, he was beginning to think he should perhaps stop resisting the inevitable and finally retire at last. He was not far off sixty, hardly a disrespectable age to be giving up work after nigh-on 40 years. Elizabeth would be delighted, for one thing, and he may be getting older, but he was far from too infirm to be unable to enjoy himself if he were at his leisure.

Furthermore, it was not as if he would be leaving the Bank in incapable hands - he had already passed off a great deal of responsibility to Geoffrey Charles, and he had no doubt that his stepson would excel if given full control. Valentine had tried his best to learn business as he knew his father wanted - and the small mine he had invested in was quite neatly profitable - but in truth he was simply not made for that sort of work. He had inherited the artistic leanings of his Chynoweth blood - he played the pianoforte exceptionally well, and family members who knew far more about that sort of thing than George did assured him that Valentine's poetry was excellent. He'd even had some published.

No, it was Geoffrey Charles who would inherit George's business interests in the future, despite his own once strong opposition. As a younger man, he'd exhibited a great deal of his father's restlessness and dissatisfaction with his expected future as the heir to Trenwith - feelings which had led him to rather impulsively join the Army after Oxford, much to his mother's upset. Thankfully, he had come through the subsquent tumultuous years relatively unscathed, and sold out as the youngest Colonel in his regiment. At something of a loose end - and with a wife and expected child to set an example for - he'd thrown himself into finally fully taking the reigns at Trenwith, and further taken on the challenge of tracking down a gang of highwaymen who'd made several attempts on the Warleggan Bank's coinage in transport. Even if George had ever harboured even the slightest doubt of the young man's mettle before that, he certainly had none now.

Considering Geoffrey Charles brought George's mind back around to the problem of Arthur and Ursula yet again, and he sighed, reaching for his cup of tea, forgetting it was long since cold. Grimacing, he pushed the cup aside and sat back in his chair to brood. It had been Geoffrey Charles who had introduced Arthur - or Lord Arthur Riseborough, fourth son of the Duke of Southampton, to give him his proper title - to the family. They had served together on the Continent, and Geoffrey Charles had taken the slightly younger man under his wing. He also credited Arthur with saving his life at San Sebastián. The two were fast friends - Arthur had stood up with him at both of his weddings to Amadora, the first conducted in Spain by the Army chaplain, and the second held at Trenwith's chapel to please Elizabeth.

It was his stepson who now interrupted his reverie, entering the study after a swift knock. He'd been in Exeter for a few days on business for the Bank, and George had not expected him back until tomorrow. After exchanging greetings, they dealt with all that had arisen from the trip - unfortunately, it seemed that they were going to have to sever ties with a merchant in the city and call in his debts to them. Henry Foreman had inherited his father's hard-built trading company several years ago and it had sadly not been the making of him - despite George and Geoffrey Charles's best efforts, and those of the company's other investors, his profligacy and lack of business acumen appeared destined to destroy his father's life's work.

After coming to this difficult decision, they sat for a few moments in silent contemplation of the shame of it, but George shortly began to sense his stepson watching him with an expression which did not seem to match their prior topic.

"Is there something you wish to say, Geoffrey Charles?"

"I have had a letter from Arthur, Uncle."

"Oh - "

"Are you really so opposed? I must tell you that he means to speak with you soon. I do not want to advise him against it, but perhaps I might reconsider if I could understand your objection. And yet, I cannot imagine what it can be?"

George looked at Geoffrey Charles and wondered how to admit that he had no answer.

  
~

  
"I assume Geoffrey Charles has told you that Lord Arthur means to pay us a visit soon." Elizabeth looked up from her book as George readied himself for bed that evening, and he sighed. "You will have to decide how you wish to answer him."

"Yes." He agreed, slipping into bed next to her. "Yes, I will."

"You thought him quite charming when he first came here - what has changed your mind so? It is quite clear you are unhappy about his intentions, and I cannot understand why. He is far from another Mr Staveley."

That George could not disagree with. Edwin Staveley was a seemingly dashing young man who had paid court to Susannah a few years previously, soon winning her over. Although she shared the beauty of her twin sister Clare, her more reserved personality was often overwhelmed by Clare's vivaciousness and she had always been far more inclined to fade into the background. Initially, George's reservations about the matter had been solely related to Susannah being barely seventeen at the time, until both Elizabeth and Morwenna had reported whispers abound in society of Staveley's extensive debts and his allegedly having been cut off by the wealthy uncle who was his patron. George had eventually discovered that not only was this all true, but Staveley also had an illegitimate child to provide for - it was not Susannah he was interested in, but the far from inconsiderable fortune she would acquire upon her marriage. Upon being informed by George and Geoffrey Charles that they would make sure he would never received a penny of it, Staveley had turned tail and fled, abandoning Susannah entirely without so much as a word. To have his sweet daughter's heart so badly broken had been most distressing, even if it were clearly for the best. Thankfully, in time she had recovered. Oddly enough, it seemed that Clare's marriage had most cheered her - it seemed to have given her hope for her own future.

"There is no matter of money, or rank or name," Elizabeth continued. She was correct again - of course there could be no objection to the son of a Duke. As he was not the heir, his elder brother had inherited the vast majority of the family fortune but, with an  inheritance from his godfather, Lord Arthur had made his own way in the world, both personally and financially. He had no need to fortune hunt. "And we have no cause to think he would treat her ill - we have seen ourselves what an honest and kindly gentleman he is, and Geoffrey Charles could never be so attached to someone who was not of good character. So, what is your objection?"

"He - he is a little older than her." It was true enough, but George knew in his heart it was weak.

"Nine years is not so much. There is six years between us, which is not a great deal less." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Elizabeth close her book, setting it aside. "And you cannot say she is too young to marry at almost twenty-three. I was nineteen when I married Francis, and Morwenna was twenty-three when she married Frederick, and he's her second husband. Besides, you let Clare marry at nineteen - and Callum is older than her!"

"Yes." He sighed, turning to look at her properly at last. "The truth is, my love, I know that there can be no objection to the match, and yet...some part of me still resists."

"You do not want to lose her." She covered his hand with hers, tilting her head on one side, sympathy in her soft brown eyes. George looked at her for a moment - the soft crinkling at the corner of her eyes, the streaks of silver in her hair. Twenty-seven years they had been married now; still she took his breath away, and he loved her more fiercely than ever. Of course, by now she knew him better than he knew himself.

"No. No, I do not." That was it, and deep down he had probably always known it. George loved all of his children deeply, and would swear before God himself that he favoured none of them over the others, but it would not be wrong to say that he and Ursula had always been closer. She took most after him in both appearance and manner - she shared his facility with numbers and had a far greater head for business than a young woman had any opportunity to make good use of. Every time he thought of her marrying, his mind took him back to teaching her about money and trade when she was younger than Flora was now, to buying her books about geology and astronomy when most other young ladies her age were learning to paint watercolours and embroider. Often, he thought even further back to soothing her restless nights when she was a baby, sitting in Elizabeth's rocking chair in the nursery, cradling Ursula in his arms and marvelling at his beautiful daughter. The thought of her leaving him was like a knife in his heart. "How selfish I am."

"No!" Elizabeth shook her head. "You have always been close, ever since she was tiny. It is not wrong of you to be reluctant to let her go - but it would be wrong of you to refuse Lord Arthur just to keep her with you."

"I know. Especially when I did not object so to Clare's marriage - even when I knew that she would be going so far away." It had given him only momentary pause when Clare's prospective suitor, Dr Callum Barclay, had told them that he had been asked to take up his uncle's medical practice in his birth city of Edinburgh. Elizabeth had been more distraught that her daughter would be so distant, but George had felt that he could not deny Clare her wish to marry the man she loved...and yet, he had been almost contemplating doing just that to Ursula.

"I will confess..." Elizabeth glanced down, and George watched her curiously. "I had thought that if any of our children would be reluctant to marry, it would be Ursula."

"Perhaps she still is...or perhaps I am simply clutching at a faint hope." He knew that he was - he had been a silly old fool, reluctant to enter his approaching dotage without his beloved daughter by his side.

  
~

  
"Boo! Oh, where did he go...? Boo!" Little Georgie's delighted laughter filled the parlour, his chubby legs kicking in his cradle. Flora lent over him, covering her face with her hands and then snatching them away to exclaim at him in mock surprise. At thirteen, she liked to think of herself as very grown up - and she was certainly clever beyond her years - but at heart she was still a child, at her happiest playing with her cousin Josephine, helping her Mama and her sisters pick flowers and embroider, and reading her fairy-tales.

She had been their little surprise, born five years after her brother, their youngest son, Nicholas. As the years passed since his arrival, George and Elizabeth had accepted he would be their last child, with only the smallest touch of regret. Then, just a few weeks before her forty-third birthday, Elizabeth had begun to feel unwell - George had worried terribly over her until she assured him she was far from ill. Flora was their baby, and they adored her.

Her rather late arrival meant that at her young age, she was already an aunt three times over - to little Georgie, Valentine and Serena's boy, and to Juana and Sofia, Geoffrey Charles' daughters. Although she seemed closer to them than her more grown up siblings, the truth was it was only a handful of years before she would be old enough to marry. Old enough to leave them.

"Here, Flora, let your old Mama see her grandson." Elizabeth set aside her knitting and reached out to take the baby, bounching him gently on her knee. Flora knelt beside them, tickling a tiny stockinged foot which emerged from his blanket. "There, my precious boy...It is nice to finally have a little George in the family, since your Grandpapa would not let me name anyone after him."

"Valentine insisted." Selena smiled at them from her chair by the fire, holding her place in her book with her finger.

"I think a generation is an acceptable gap." George added, smiling. He and Elizabeth had argued good-naturedly over this topic ever since Valentine was born, and it was perhaps the only thing upon which he had never given in to her. The closest she had come to getting her way was naming Nicholas after his father.

"Perhaps Clare will name her baby George, too, and we can have a whole gaggle!" Elizabeth laughed, but George saw the touch of sadness in her eyes. With Clare so far away, she could not be there for the child's birth, as she had been for the rest of their grandchildren's. Letters were all well and good, but it was not the same, a point underlined by Elizabeth passing the baby to him. Big blue eyes gazed curiously up at him, little mouth curved in a toothless grin. Georgie might be named for him, but he looked almost exactly as Valentine had as a baby, inheriting the dark colouring of both of his parents.

Valentine was out today with Geoffrey Charles, visiting Cardew. Since Uncle Cary had passed six months ago, the house had stood empty, Geoffrey Charles refusing to consider George and Elizabeth's suggestion that they move there and leave Trenwith to him and Amadora. The matter of what to do with the house had been left up in the air for a while, until Valentine had asked if he and Selena might be permitted to live there. With what was essentially three families living there, even great old Trenwith had become a touch crowded at last.

George had to admit to a touch of reluctance on that front, as well. He had no practical objection to Valentine living at Cardew - it was for the best that it was looked after, and he would much rather a member of the family live there than lease to a stranger - but the thought of them going bothered him nevertheless, even if they would be only a few miles away.

Sitting there, his grandson in his arms, George realised something. His dislike of the idea of Ursula's marriage was not merely due to his bond with her - it was because she would not be their only child to go away. Clare was already gone, and it would no doubt only be a matter of time until Susannah also married. She may well have already met a young man on her trip to Bath. Valentine's leaving had always been inevitable, in truth. They could hardly expect him to live his whole married life under their roof - or Geoffrey Charles' roof, to be more precise.

Nicholas was eighteen now, soon to finish school, and then he would be off to Cambridge and considering the future course of his life. To their surprise, he had expressed an interest in the clergy - not the most desirable of occupations in George's opinion, but if that was what he wished then so be it.

Eventually, only Flora would be left, and she not for long, perhaps. They had always kept all of their children close, even the absence of the boys at school a wrench. But they could not hold onto them all forever.

"Sir George...Lord Arthur Riseborough is here." He nodded at the housekeeper's announcement. So here was the moment of truth.

"Show him in." George had never seen the young man look nervous before. He was attempting to put a brave face on it, but the iron grip he had on his gloves, and the way he shifted from foot to foot, gave him away.

"My Lord, how pleased we are to see you again." Selena was the first to greet him, getting to her feet a little more quickly than her older relatives. "I am afraid Geoffrey Charles is not at home, and Amadora is out visiting."

"We should be happy for your company if you wish to wait. He will be back this afternoon." Elizabeth smiled warmly, but Arthur shook his head.

"That is kind of you, my Lady, but it is your husband I have come to see. If he will consent to speak to me privately."

"Of course, my Lord." Elizabeth took little Georgie, pressing a kiss to George's cheek.

"Courage, my love."

  
~

  
It was another ten days before Ursula and Susannah arrived home, spilling out of the carriage on the driveway, full of excited chatter and dressed in new clothes.

"Mama! Papa! We've missed you so much!" Ursula did her best to embrace them both, delighted to be home.

"Not so much to prevent you from enjoying yourselves, I'm sure!" Elizabeth laughed, taking Susannah in her arms in turn, before reaching out to embrace her cousin. Morwenna carried her own little surprise in her arms - Esme was two years old, born well over a decade after her elder sister, Josephine, when Morwenna was forty-two. She was clutching what looked like a brand new doll in her arms, and beaming at all the excitement.

"Josie!" Flora flew at her cousin, the two girls practically bouncing in their joy at being reunited.

"Flora! I have so much to tell you! And we have presents!"

"Presents!"

Eventually, they managed to calm everyone down and get themselves collected in the parlour, where stories and gifts were exchanged - the girls did most of the talking, albeit interrupted by plenty of questions from Flora.

"Oh, we met Mrs Edgeworth! I cannot believe I forgot to say!" Ursula cried.

"Mrs Edgeworth?" George murmured aside to Morwenna as this announcement was met with much exclamation.

"The novelist" She whispered back, bouncing Esme gently on her knee. "She writes all those novels about incompetent Irish landlords."

"Oh, yes. What was she like?"

"I can hardly say, the girls monopolised her all night. She was quite taken with Ursula, I think."

"As is everyone."

The excited chatter continued over dinner, the table busier than it had been in months. Even with the little children put to bed in the nursery, there were a dozen of them that night. Ursula and Susannah had many stories to share.

"We went for dinner at Lord Trammel's house - and we had curry!"

"His Lordship was with us in India, if you recall." Frederick - General Yardley as he was now - supplied. He and Morwenna had spent five years on the sub-continent with his regiment.

"And how did you like it?" The wrinkling of Susannah's nose answered her mother's question, and the others laughed.

"It was rather strong," Ursula added. "But I didn't mind it."

This led onto a tale of some dreadful curry Frederick had eaten while in India - prepared by a military cook who had apparantly paid little attention to the locals' advice. While he held everyone else's attention, George caught Elizabeth's eye along the length of the table. The candlelight bathed her in a golden glow, sparkling in her eyes and glancing off her jewels. Her earrings were a sapphire pair he had bought her to celebrate the birth of the twins. Twenty years later both they and she were just as beautiful as the day he had given them to her.

She gave him a soft smile, glancing meaningfully around her. He could guess what she was trying to communicate to him. Geoffrey Charles and Valentine were both married, Morwenna had long since left the house, and yet here they all were, as happy as they had ever been. Nicholas would be home from school soon, and John Conan would certainly visit when he had leave from his regiment and was home with his mother and stepfather. Even Clare, so far away, was not gone forever. Their children would grow and make their own lives, as they should, as they had been brought up to do, but they would never be lost to them.

Of course, Elizabeth would always be by his side. They had brought their children into this world, and they would watch them make their way in it together.

  
~

  
With all of the excitement of the homecoming, George decided to wait until the following afternoon to speak to Ursula. When he went looking for her, he was told that she had gone walking in the grounds with Elizabeth and the other ladies, so he was forced to wait almost an hour in his study for her to return, fruitlessly attempting to distract himself with work.

"Papa? Meg said you wished to speak with me?" George was sure Ursula must know the reason he wanted to see her. Even if Lord Arthur had not managed to tell of her of his visit, someone would have told her. Flora most likely. Ursula came to stand in front of his desk, seeming uncharacteristically unsure of herself.

"I'm sure you know why...Lord Arthur came to see me while you were away."

"I know, Papa." Although she looked a touch nervous, she met his gaze steadily, standing up straight.

"He tells me that he wishes to marry you. I assume he has communicated this wish to you?"

"Yes, Papa. But I told him that I could not answer him until he had spoken to you. I could not make so important a decision without your knowledge."

"Do you wish to marry him?" He paused. "Do you love him?"

"Yes, Papa, on both counts." The sparkle of emotion in her eyes told him all he wished to know about the depth and sincerity of her feelings. Ursula was far from a silly girl prone to flights of fancy or fleeting infatuations. Indeed, Lord Arthur was the only gentleman she had ever shown the slightest interest in. While her slightly tomboy-ish habits and strong character had kept her from the upper echelons of desirability amongst suitors, her beauty, wealth and name had not let her go unnoticed, but all had been ignored before now.

"And he tells me that he loves you." The expression on Lord Arthur's face as he said so had been almost identical to Ursula's when she swore her feelings. "Do you believe that he will make you happy?"

"Oh, yes Papa! Yes!" Arthur had sworn upon his life that he would do everything in his power to care for Ursula, and see that she went for nothing.

_"Ursula is devoted to you, Sir George, and she would not be the wonderful young woman she is if not for you and her ladyship. You have been everything a father ought to be, and I intend to be all that a husband should."_

He could see that Ursula was awaiting his decision with nervous anticipation, but he could also see her steel herself for whatever it may be. How grown up she was! He remembered every other thing she had asked him for in her life - her own pony, to learn to swim, to visit the mine with her brothers. Not once had he refused her anything. How could he refuse her this?

"Then, my dear, if it is your wish, of course you must marry him."

"Thank you, Papa! Thank you!" She ran around the desk, wrapping her arms tightly around him. Pulling back, she knelt beside his chair, looking up at him with tears in her eyes. "I love you, Papa."

Smiling, he touched her cheek. "I love you, too, my angel." 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! :D


End file.
